


try again? (y/n)

by fredecorn



Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alcohol, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Party, Post-Canon, Psychological Trauma, Suicide Mention (Chapter 5)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-10 02:24:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20520416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredecorn/pseuds/fredecorn
Summary: After waking up, they saw real Jabberwock - the book with empty pages which didn't even have their names on them, but in evening's twiligt, bloody stains were still glimmering on the walls. There was neither first nor second, they had just one Jabberwock - that one where they had the party ending with the tragedy.This time, it will be different.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> [[На русском]](https://ficbook.net/readfic/8480305)
> 
> It was supposed to be my lovemail to my favorite DR part and my favorite DR cast, my thankfully alive beloved children. 
> 
> And it's going to be a plenty of sensible KomaHina vibes here, though enjoying or ignoring them is up to your choice, because they aren't the main point anyway. 
> 
> A small (though not too small with my writing habits) story about how the 77-th class decided to retry the party they once had on this island.

Hinata opened his eyes wide. Violently, almost like they striked through his eyelids fighting their way forward on their own. He shuddered on the sheets, scrunching under him, and forced apart his fingers being clenched to the edge of the bed: just one cut off stir was keeping the gap between him and jumping off it and rushing away. But there was nothing wrong with the bed. There was nothing wrong with the cottage being surrounded by the cool placid night, too. He had no reasons to fluster, nowhere to escape to and nothing he could escape, because no matter how hard he tried, his legs couldn't bring him far away from what he was afraid of the most – what was lurking in his very own head.

But for some reason, this realization didn't make Hinata feel any better at all.

He hung down his hand and silently took a deep breath, trying to smooth out his painfully cramped lungs. The air smelled of freshness, soup and a bit of medications. It smelled familiar: like peace and safeness, like life going this exact way you're minded to spend the rest of it. It should've been enough. But Hinata was still laying with his every muscle being strained, listening to his heart beating in his temples. A half of Hajime hated him for that, and the other half... was the one he hated.

He got up and made it to the bathroom with blank careful patters. Noiselessly closing the door behind him, he grabbled the switch.

Disheveled but still _short_ cropped hair was sticking out and totally messy; his own squinty eyes were looking at him from the other side of the mirror with a wariness, almost hostilely – slightly softened when got sure that it was still just him.

Hinata turned the faucet. He was shoveling the fizzing flowing with his hands, trying to wash himself from something much deeper than just the sweat which covered his face with a sticky slick. The ice cold water seized them to the bones, and now he could at least assure himself that this freezing caused him shivering, that there wasn't anything else inside him to made his body quiver. Nothing he couldn't get a grip of.

He turned off the water and stood still for few minutes in a dead silence, in the blinding white glow of the light bulb, staring at the man in front of him.

He was feeling kind of tricked. He did nothing more than lowered his guard down for a short while; he wanted to lose it so hard after all of those days, to put his head on a pillow and sink into it, to let his impossibly heavy body drift limply like a boat in a calmness of a small pile of blessed hours he could afford to not exist. They say that the sweetest and deepest sleep is waiting for you in the earth, but he wanted to do his best to find it on the surface first. He decided to not abandon this hope yet.

Opening the door for a bit with his one hand and turning off the light with another, Hinata came out to the room. Hurted by the lamp, his eyes were blindfolded by a solid blackness; slowly and carefully cutting through the air with his hands, he leaned on his memory while finding his way back to the bed. He layed down close to its border, in tension and distrust, with the thoughts which were still left somewhere at his short course, suffering to burst away as far from this place as possible.

He was too strung up to let the whispery voice going from behind freak him out; but it invaded him, almost like making him more real.

"Hinata-kun, are you alright?"

Husky and sleepy, it sounded not _too_ sleepy though; the thought of being observed for a while already in such surely not the best moment of him came through Hinata's body echoing and reached his stomach to begin wriggling there uncomfortably. It was going to made it only worse, but he looked over his shoulder.

Komaeda was laying facing him. Hajime couldn't see and couldn't confirm any other way that his eyes were even opened, but at the same time it was as if he sensed it somehow with something more reliable than just his vision – he just knew.

"H-m-m, sure, sorry," he mumbled lamely and turned away. "It's okay, just sleep," he added almost nervously in a short while, still feeling the stare with his back.

Hinata wanted to brush it under the carpet before this feel of agitation and guilt would win over and push him out of the bed. He started considering that raising up and getting back to his own cottage could've been the best decision he had ever made in his lifespan. Not like Komaeda actually was in any danger. He stayed here to spent the night with him just for his own peace, doing something that good personal doctor would do, because he was kind of Nagito's personal doctor now, even though he hadn't ever majored in it. Somehow he knew what to do, knew how to do it, he might not know it today – but he would tomorrow. Could Hinata believe it or not, but with his own brain and his own hands he kept doing something so Komaeda wasn't going to die anymore and his condition was getting better.

But he couldn't allow himself to take a load off. After everything what happened to them, the real fighting was only beginning, their whole war and their personal battles, and that was one of his fronts at which Hinata should've made sure not to lose, even if he still had this kind of feeling that he was sent there by mistake.

Back in the day, he could've never fallen asleep at the same room Komaeda was in, but now he was only wishing this obstreperous night softening in his hands, giving him calm, dreamless sleep. Not the reminders that he could remedy anyone but himself.

"Do you have sleeping troubles?" Komaeda spoke.

"I can go to my place if it's bothering you," Hinata responded, remembering too late that he could've just said "no". But he nearly apologized instead, and so he had already lost.

"No, you're not bothering me at all. But maybe I can be of help?"

It wasn't right away Hinata remembered words and chose suitable among them to answer.

"What kind of help?"

"It usually helps to share the nightmares your had, or your worries. You always encourage me to do so yourself," he reminded.

"It's... not the same," Hinata argued tiredly. "You are not obligated or anything because of that."

"It's not because of an obligation, and I don't see any difference."

Debating with Komaeda required a plenty of energy, rock-solid certainty that you're right and a sincere will to made it to the victory. When Hajime couldn't find enough of any of them in himself, he would prefer to think that he didn't surrender but made a strategic retreat.

He gave off an exhausted sigh and rolled to the other side.

"I was dreaming that I opened my eyes laying in the pod, like back then. There is only this neon light around me, it hums like a fridge, and it's pitch-black behind the glass. And for some reason it doesn't lift. I bear against it with my arms, and it's damn tight there, it shouldn't be that tight."

The faint glow of the night sky, leaking to the room, was reflecting in Komaeda eyes watching him almost without a blink.

"And then the face appears, it's_ his _face. He stands there and looks right at me, and now I want to back away, as far as possible, I feel pressed by the both sides so I can't move, and barely can breath, but it's like he still slowly gets closer... So I just want one of us to dissapear. Even if it will be me."

He's longing to say how the voiceless scream seethes and strangles his chest from the inside; how he starts to slam his knees against the lid, and he feels like the glass, now being covered with crimson stains, grinds down his bones; like even through it, black hairs somehow twine around his neck, cover and slash his eyes with sharp threads. 

Hinata falls silent, hardly looking up to see Komaeda.

"Do you see this dream often?"

He wasn't ready to talk about it. If he had been ready, he would've chosen words more carefully – he would've made sure his story (as if it was about something he still had in front of his eyes, always had) hadn't sounded so dramatically and hadn't been so truthful.

"From time to time," Hinata answered briefly. "I barely ever had any nightmares before, and I never got stuck on them," he added going into rambling and... explaining himself too much? Every word escaping his mouth seemed so excessive even to him. It was kind of embarrassment, and actually more like a secondhand embarrassment, even though the one who he was ashamed about was still nobody else than him, "and I don't want to overthink them now, but... They remind me about him."

"So, you're afraid of Kamukura-kun... or what else?"

"I'm not afraid of him, I don't care about him," Hinata retorted, but nearly flinched when Komaeda had said his name outloud so lightly. "He's a creep, but my huge trouble isn't him on his own, it's the the fact that... he's basically me."

Komaeda's head jerked strangely in response, but he let him go on.

"I don't feel anything weird or abnormal, I guess. I have my memories, and me is me... but a lot of things changed. How do I even know now which part of me is actually him? I literally see the half of him on my face every time I look in the mirror," Hinata reached out his hand for his left eye unintentionally, but immediately drew it back like he would draw it away from a hissing snake. "But even if it's not like that, even if there's only me right here right now, it intimidates me even more. Who knows when he'll decide to do a comeback. Maybe it's the last night I'm falling asleep as Hinata Hajime, luckily enough already. It just overwhelms me so much that I can't help thinking sometimes that whatever, I want him here already, and to realize it, even if he's going to kick me out of my own head, just... if it finally lets me to know something for sure."

Hinata's voice trailed off, and he exhaled outloud still breathing haltingly along with the fast, rapid beating of his heart, which... why was it even pounding so desperately? He stayed still on the bed, the clock hands had a meeting somewhere near three, the ocean's roars were coming from afar through the window, but his mind at the very least should've been running for the hills crossing a burning, continuously exploding minefield.

"Why do you think he would _kick you out_? And why does the thought of being one with him disgust you so much?"

"I do remember him, I do remember being him as well. I don't like him. I don't want to be him again."

"But it's not about you being him, the case it that _he_ is you," Komaeda reminded subtly. "That part of you which probably shouldn't have been created... but it happened, brang both good and bad. You've been through a lot, but it's getting better now. You're more than just a part of yourself. You influence him more than he influences you. You just need to take it with all seriousness. If you need my opinion, no doubts that the person I see in front of me is Hinata Hajime... who however will never be able to erase that he's Kamukura Izuru as well. But you make a nice duo."

Hinata froze, without a single idea which words or whole sentences to build with them he should've known to respond. Even to digest Komaeda's sudden monologue, it took him some time.

"...Should I accept this as something what's supposed to comfort me?" he asked in conclusion.

"Yes, kind of."

"Okay, I'll trust you."

Before, he thought that they just weren't created to get along with each other. Hinata often, no matter how hard he would try, couldn't understand what Komaeda would say to him; sometimes he would get an impression that Nagito just wouldn't make any sense, sometimes – that Hinata himself would answer not what his question would be about at all. Senseless and ridiculous, almost awkward talks – the talks they used to have. But somehow that talks would keep going, by them both. Somehow even with Hinata's inner common sense being all against having any more business with Komaeda, unexplainable and implacable gravity wouldn't stop throwing them together.

Now Hajime had no reasons to revolt against it. Calling Komaeda his friend wasn't going to distort his face, and he got used to relying on him probably a bit more than he intented to.

"Of course, it's our fault first, but we went through a lot of shit. Then we were saved, but got into other shit right away. Sometimes I have unpleasing dreams about the simulation, too," he spoke.

"For example?"

"I kill somebody. Moreover, it's so illogical, I don't even know how and why I do this. It's often some girl. Once I found myself standing with a blood-stained batt in the middle of the beach house. But mostly they're about how I begin panicking after that, covering up all traces and thinking what's waiting for me at the trial. It's weird, like I have ever thought of killing someone there," he smiled wryly and bitterly.

"Have you ever killed me in them?" Komaeda wondered.

"Surpringly enough, no, not a single time," Hinata said slowly, almost hesitating even though technically it was the truth. But how deep he should've digged for this truth into the wicked memories bit him, poisoning with the desire to change the topic immediately.

"That's right that we had not so good vacations on this island before we truly woke up here," Komaeda spoke. "Though what happened wasn't real, it happened, maybe not exactly here, but memory doesn't see a lot of difference, and it makes sense. I've seen how Mioda-san doesn't want to look at the music venue while passing by. Hanamura-kun still avoids me. And not many people go outside while the sun is down."

"Wow. You're... observant," Hajime pushed out and felt somewhat dumb next second. Yeah, Hinata Hajime, it's a mystery how you managed to succeed with all of class trials without saying that the one who murdered a victim was a murderer, he thought.

"Old habits," Komaeda answered carelessly. "I'm more used to observe people than to talk to them. But I honestly don't think that any of them would tell me that if I asked them, would they?"

What Komaeda said next would've made Hinata pull away from him in frustration before, but here and now he could only agree that though it sounded a bit harsh, it was realistic.

"That's true that we're mostly in peace with each other, but not with ourselves. It will be a while before we'll quit waking up from nightmares and seeing corpses in beautiful waterscapes."

It seemed to be the end of what he had to say, and Hinata, who just nodded slightly, had also nothing to answer. They spent some more time laying like that, in silence.

He suddenly went all limp with no strength left at all, realizing just now how exhausting a talk about nightmares, fears and death in the middle of the night could be, but he felt almost nice.

"Is it better?"

"Huh, erm, yes..." Hinata shuddered. He collected all the remains of his willpower – choosing not to think about where this odd embarassment hurrying him came from – to turn back to the opposite wall. "Thank you. Good night."

"Good night, Hinata-kun."

Hearing his own name made Hajime feel safe completely.

***

Maybe it was the smooth pop of air slipping between the frame and the closing door what woke him up. Or maybe he opened his eyes hours later. In whatever way, when he rolled to the middle of the empty bed, squeezing them shut under the sunlight falling down on his face, he could neither hear gently footsteps nor water whooshing in the bathroom – nothing to fill up the cottage with the proper morning. For Hajime, it felt more like a thorny, laboured return from a coma: worn out and grown into the matrass under him with his stiffened body, he was trying to get his brain working in this reality.

When he made it outside, his legs were fueled by the nervous tension yearning in them, which lately would be with him every morning Hinata would jump out of the bed at sunrise, as if nothing would set the previous day apart from the new one, to go back into the Jabberwock's ungraspable chaos they all had been trying to unscramble and to tame.

Today he was moved to the hotel rather by a muscle memory. A habit. He felt horrible, but just god knows for which morning already – and so probably the only mistake he did this time which made such difference was letting himself to sleep more than four or five hours, and it reminded his body that he was supposed to have this exact amount of sleeping hours on the regular basis. But on the big picture, it still didn't matter anything.

He stopped by to look wonderingly at Mioda's back.

Hinata used to not waste his time in vain on asking too many questions about anything regarding Ibuki, but the pose he had found her in near the pool was admittedly concerning: down on her knees, before one of the few sun loungers they fixed just a little while ago, she weigh down it... no, more like her lower half was hanging down it feebly, almost sprawling on the ground. With her head being dropped between her bent elbows, she was laying prone, with no sign of life, until Hinata hailed her.

"M-Mioda?"

Some low drawling noises, which resembled whining the most, came out in response. And at this point, Hinata couldn't just shake it off and not to stare at her with unhidden dismay and still, also with kind of disbelief: his eyes might've seen something wrong, his ears might've heard something wrong, he could've got something wrong, and if nothing else, he had someone other than Mioda in front of him, or it was too early in the morning for her to perceive that she was Mioda Ibuki, yet.

"Ho-o-ow much longer does this have to go on?" she broke her head away from the sunbed and turned back, giving Hinata such a look like he had just offended her to her very core simply by his appearance, or it was dispiriting her that much that expecting any reaction other than this would be just as dispiriting and aweless. Her voice cut through, as if somebody turned up the volume steady but quickly, rendering her whimpering into the agonized growl. It sounded a lot more like Ibuki. But didn't give any reassurance at all.

"What do you mean by this?"

"I swear I'm not gonna move a single inch from here," the girl drawled out instead of an answer, letting her head fall back. "I need summer vacation. Immediately. A sluggish, leisured, delightful do-nothing on the golden shore. But we're already on the island. And it's nothing like a tropical paradise, it's a torture. Beach trips are ruined forever, do you understand that, Hajime-chan?"

Hinata had to think out her every sentence multiple times to get a slight clue what was this whole ranting about and why did Mioda look this odd way: like, even if some magical trick had brang her right to the golden shore she mentioned, she would've stayed laying on the sand motionless, pensively bubbling in the tide. 

"Um... we can discuss it on our way to the restaurant," Hinata tried to perk her up, but the girl just mumbled dolefully in response.

"Ibuki was going there, but then realized that everything is pointless."

With all of his worries, Hinata just really didn't know – and probably wasn't even in the state he could handle it, himself – to do something to that.

"Hm-m-m-m, okay, then see you later inside, in case you change your mind?" he pulled his eyebrows together and continued glaring at her, until he reached the very hotel's doorstep.

After passing it and going upstairs – where the restaurant was located, – he found more or less a half of Jabberwock's current residents being already flowed together for the breakfast. Served by Hanamura, the tables always waited for them from the first and to the last client.

But something disturbed Hinata right off the bat, as soon as he entered and, slowing down a bit, headed to the crew across the hall. There was too silent: too few sounds to be made by a group of about ten people. No one registered his presence until Hinata blurted out greetings, pointedly raising his voice up.

"Good morning," he reflexively turned toward the table Komaeda was sitting at. And Komaeda appeared being the only one who greeted him in response in the right manner: Souda, who was sitting nearly slumping back in his chair lifelessly, sighed loudly and quietened down; Kuzuryuu did a short flourish without a word; the rest muttered something to themselves at most.

Obviously, Komaeda stayed the only one who found this morning good at all.

Burying into heavy and twisted thoughts, Hinata decided not to put off why he came here for reasons he didn't in fact even have yet. Emptying the plate in his usual pace – and ignoring the dim spasms of his stomach nagging in response to all of those unpleasing, grim vibes, – Hajime was observing and waiting. That was a problem. And he had already more than enough of them. Finishing up his coffee, he was giving this one a chance and the last drops of his hope to be somehow solved itself – not weakness, not naivity, but it was the very expectable output of a very tired person.

By the moment his cup had the uneven print of the brick-red gradient left at its bottom – the only thing Hinata could've fortune-told himself by that blank mess, which resembled him absolutely nothing, was the same blank and absolutely unremarkable day ahead, – there were now more people around, but even with this nothing seemed to change a lot. The party he happened to came to had a dress code requiring depressed faces and quiet, pretty forced out talks, and everyone was informed in prior except for – somehow – him. Mioda finally made an appearance in the restaurant, following Sonia at a snail's pace. The other girl, though she had her back perfectly straight while tapping the wooden floor with the heels with all of her dignity, looked like this facade cost her the last remnants of her moral strength; and the fact how quickly Hinata noticed that looking at her and agreed with himself that he wasn't just imagining it, alarmed him seriously.

He even attempted to remember what he could've said or done the previous day to achieve everyone's – well, maybe except for Komaeda, though his experience told him that not being ignored didn't necessarily meant that the guy didn't have anything against him – hate or disdain. He had a minimum amount of matters to assume that it was the case, but when he finally took the plunge to speak into the crowd, he did in cautious, almost apologetic way.

"So, what's the plan for today?"

That was just the question which kept setting up their every morning past few weeks – or better said, any answer they would give each other then. But this time, none of the faces Hinata saw echoed him. He looked at Togami – at the one whose voice he had been expecting to hear all this time as something he used to take for granted. But even Byakuya, instead of reminding them about their duties or assigning new tasks already, was kind of spaced out, gazing at Hinata in response, reflecting about something much longer than he usually needed... and, by the looks of it, much less willingly.

"Remind me, what's was everyone's progress by yesterday," he finally spoke. "The only thing I know for sure is that we've finally finished the bridge to the last island..."

"Then maybe, it's a fine moment to... take some rest?" the conversation was gaining altitude slowly, but Sonia broke upon it, roughly dropping it into the tailspin. She sounded diplomatic, but voiced it out almost desperately right on the verge of her countenance, what didn't manage to hide how this suggestion meant a lot more to her than it was acceptable to show, Hinata noticed.

And it was Sonia: the one who would never complain neither about the ton of work she got drowned in as well nor how this work didn't fit a princess; she was that type who always tried to be a good example and keep their spirit high. The dreadful sound of her tenacity cracking finally brang Hinata back to reality. He looked over all of them again to grasp that it had been enough time for anyone's limit to be reached. He didn't need the telepathy talent to see and feel the vibrations of Sonia's words resonating with all of his classmates. Mioda, as if she had only been waiting for such command, crushed on the table with her face and breathed out in relief. Togami's face grew milder like he was glad that someone other than him finally had said it.

Something important happened without him again, and it made Hinata uncomfortable. His body and soul were somewhere among the others, sharing their distress wholeheartedly, but Hinata Hajime himself couldn't accept something that revolutionary (one- or two-days vital break) so quickly. Or he just couldn't come to terms with how eager and consentient, without giving him even a chance to talk out all of the "buts" he had got already buzzling in his head, they were to make this decision.

They had done a lot. Working together, they turned downfallen and unfriendly Jabberwock into the place where they could not only survive, but live a fine life, sipping tropical cocktails near the pool radiating off the neon blue fancy hotels vibed glow, if they only would've got an opportunity to do that so far. It was like arranging a huge house they got charged with as an inheritance a full hundred of years later than that house breathed its last gasp: after a month of devastating labor, the bedrooms were nice to fall asleep and furthermore to wake up in, the kitchen smelled of burnt toasts, but dust was living its own life in that room down the hall they hadn't found the key to yet; in the attic, the old needless stuff was biding its time, untouched; the skeleton was chattering with its teeth in that closet no one had taken a gamble to open first. No matter how many flowers were blooming on their windowsills, this house would become their home only when they'd finally pull it out.

They had done a lot, but still had a lot to do. That locked room was bothering Hinata as much as it was making him Hinata who could ignore his own weariness like the island on its own, their every goal or trouble regarding it was a top priority.

"But we still have a ton of work."

He _didn't want_ to argue, but couldn't leave it unspoken.

"And so what?" Saionji busted out. "We have it every day. We do this, do that, there's always this noise, bugs, these idiots arguing, my hands and legs are ruined and head is blowing, but it's never any less of it."

The girl was right. Maybe, it will take years more to make Jabberwock their own completely – it looked like that. Even though Hinata wanted to solve this problem as soon as possible, it just wasn't the option, and wrong in general, like being in hurry to live his whole life in one day. And he hardly could believe this, but having only his inarguable memory as the witness, in these two months he really seemed to relax nowhere and nowhen other than on that ship which brang them back to Jabberwock.

Hajime's shoulders fell; he sighed, admitting the defeat wordlessly.

"No one will die if we stop by for a little just to take a breath," Komaeda concluded this feeble argument as insipid as undersalted soup could've been.

"It's more possible that somebody will die if we don't do that," Souda agreed.

"Was it necessary to hold on with his another death comment?" Hiyoko grumbled.

Hinata kept it to himself, but came into line with her again. Even though the main point was right, they still had a long way to go before some topics wouldn't trigger too tricky feelings in them again...

No one will die if they just decide to have a bit of good time. For no apparent reason, Hinata repeated that in his mind one more time, tasting the thought in his mind...

It tasted like an idea.

"Okay, but my question is still up," he spoke slowly.

"Why? We have already decided that we're chilling out today, haven't we?" Owari asked.

"Not like we have discussed how."

"And you think we should?"

Everyone's attention sticked to Hinata like a gunsight. Usually he wouldn't feel such way, he was comfortable around his classmates – they never had been his classmates, but the fact that he would now call them so consensually, meant more than that, – and even though sometimes he would fall into disbelief that all of those amazing people treated him with such welcoming warmth, he found himself at peace among them. But now, he almost regretted everything. He didn't even have enough time to carefully think out how this chain of odd concepts guided him from Komaeda's words to the current point, and now he somehow had to render it so fifteen very different people would understand him and wouldn't question his sanity.

"Well... I've been thinking that we could throw a party."

"Nothing personal, but I'd be better laying in the cottage and staring at the ceiling," Souda refused right away.

"It's not necessary to go ape for the whole night," Hinata argued, trying to explain patiently. "And I'm not forcing anyone, but it just will be cool if we manage to gather and have fun alltogether."

"We are all here right now, with tables full of food, not too stressed – looks like kind of a party already, doesn't it?" Komaeda commented light heartedly.

Hinata gave him a long look, doing his best to hold those unarticulated noises which though undoubtely meant his resentment, and nearly chocked on them. For a moment he needed to get a grip on himself, Hajime got thrown back to the podium where he dreamt to never return to again, but never hoped to forget – if everything work out, today won't be the day of forgetting at all, he had to remind himself. _Do you really have to be like this_, Hinata was thinking trying to find the answer in Nagito's immovably wondering face.

"It's not enough for a party," Mioda came to his resque, being visibly rised up since they had fixedly put anything regarding hard work out of consideration for the time being. "Of course turning anything into a party is a top-tier skill, but you obviously won't pull it out, so we need to actually prepare a party. And it's a king-sized no-no to do it somewhere where we hang out three times a day!"

"That's it," Hanamura interrupted, "it's an offense of you to actually think that today's menu is enough for such special occasion when I'm in charge!"

"So, the pool party?" Akane suggested.

"There is not enough of sunbeds even for a half us," Nidai pointed out. Nobody was brave enough to say it, but just Nekomaru, single, already might've needed more than one sunbed.

"Once again, it's just an idea," Hinata continued, "but we could spent the day on fixing and cleaning up the old hotel building together, and then hold the party there..."

"Whatever, it's okay t... wait, it feels weird," Owari frowned in confusion.

"Same," Souda's darkened voice sounded like being a bit closer to the solution.

"It's called deja vu," Kuzuryuu deduced sharply. "Hinata, come on, what are you up to?"

Hajime let off the croocked smile, trying to use it as shield from how some people were already fully prepared to get him wrong.

"Listen, I know that it sounds random as hell, and maybe it's not even something you want to talk about right now but... I think that it would be good for everyone if we still didn't avoid talking about some stuff, but, well, tried to look at it at the different angle? Or tried to give them another meaning?" how stupid all of these words sounded in his ears, and it hadn't helped Hajime at all when Mioda whistled loudly.

"Oh gosh, he argued, but seems that Hajime-chan overworked himself even more than some of us."

"B-but I t-think that Hinata-san actually wants to say something he find important," Tsumiki's voice ringed suddenly.

Ibuki sighed in dissapointment, as if in the middle of the best pajamas party ever her parents had come into the room and reminded what time it was.

Hajime got dangerously close to the point where he wanted to give up already and pretend that no, he didn't want to say anything at all, but it was a challeging thing to do in front of fifteen people he had as witnesses, even with this powerful temptation pressing down his prostrated spirit.

So he collected his self-respect by that few pieces of it he had left on him and finished without any eagerness but on the other hand, simply and clear.

"We all remember how it ended last time, but we can try to "rewrite" this memory. And have another party in this damn building, which will go well this time."

First reactions seemed to be not so benignant, but as soon as Hinata completed his thought – the air waved with bewilderment, hesitation, confusion... but that was good, thin skinned confusion. It meant that the meaning of what he had said was heared out and pulled right strings.

Mitarai stayed the only one who couldn't fit into the mood and blend in. Since the very beginning of this discussion, he had been looking around timidly, trying to find the answers to his countless questions just in other's faces and – even more in vain – in himself, and when he finally lose his all hope that they'll come to him on their own, he spoke:

"What are you talking about? What and... _how_ it ended last time?"

Somebody coughed. Hinata sensed almost physically how the climate tautened and hardened to the dangerous rate in a single moment.

It was their shared concealment – not something they should and had any reasons to keep in secret, but too personal reveal for their mouths to be able to speak about it loudly. They had that time: when they suspected each other, they killed each other, sentenced to death and burried, blood covered their feet and hands. Mitarai wasn't with them in the Neo World Program. Moreover, he wasn't with them when they had been burning the whole world along with the bridges. Even when they were so far away from that yet. And though they were ready to accept him how, no one can do anything to the actuality that there would forever be some things left which he would never – sadly or luckily – be able to understand at this point. Without him, they went through death together. There was something intimate about death. Morbid, tragic closeness nothing could be compared to.

Having enough chance to make sure that nobody else was rushing to step out as a narrator, with reluctance, Hinata started.

"When we were in the virtual world where the killing game took place... okay, to sum up, at the very beginning of it Togami decided to hold a party to keep an eye on everyone and prevent a possible murder. But it was exactly how it ended."

Hajime literally saw how blood left his face, not mentioning the eyes which gazed upon him not in the horror – all of them, even Mitarai had been through a bit too much for the word "murder" to frighten them, – but in the nervous mazement. Hinata could be relieved: he obviously didn't need any more details.

"Anything sounds better than one more day of sawing shitty boards, so I'm into it," Kuzuryuu raised his hand with a sudden unhesitating move and exclaimed trenchantly, so the others would have all reasons to doubt if it was worthy to express any opinion other than his. "I missed it last time so."

"Wait a minute," rejoined Koizumi right then, one of the few who had enough courage to dispute with him, "don't you think that we should ask the ones who were involved into it most first?"

All this while, Togami's presence had been louring like a shadow of a heavy tidal wave closing in to a coast, and it had finally flowed out into the words, firm and serious.

"I'll take it as a rematch."

Hanamura, by contrast, had been doing a good job pretending that he had nothing more to do with all of that than the majority of them did, or preferably even less. But the eyesights pointed at him, which he already knew he couldn't talk out, and drew out some sweat on his forehead, making his pupils wander helplessly.

"I d-d-don't see any reasons not to do it?" he squealed out.

Silent agreement was slowly filling up everyone's thoughts, as Hinata could judge by the tension going away. But once the mood grew a bit lighter, Saionji's critical shout pierced him with electricity.

"Hey, do you actually think that this talk is over? Just in case you forget, there is still somebody who I'd say was involved in that more than this pervert."

Hinata hated – even though Hiyoko was already looking at the guy with an unfavourable eye – how he turned his head to Komaeda without giving it any thought, a goddamit second earlier than he realized that he didn't like the direction her remark pulled them in... his whole inner was repulsing against Saionji's remark itself, but if you think about it: was it wrong? Just how she did it like Saionji, as always, but other than that – none of them, neither Hinata nor Komaeda himself could change anything about what had been already done somewhen in past and what probably could never be justified, making the heaven doors shut in front of his face.

It was so nauseatingly fair, that Hinata should've dealt with it already, but something clenched inside of him in annoyance, and he spitted out, almost insulted.

"And what do you think we're supposed to ask him? Excuse us, Komaeda, but we have to make sure that you're not going to make something crazy and dangerous again?"

"Oh, it's a valid question, but this time I really don't have any reasons to ruin everything for you guys," Komaeda's face got that musing expression which didn't give off a sign of grudge or indignance, as if it actually was nothing wrong with what he heared, and Hinata thought in tired dissapointment that probably his impetous attempt to defend him made it only worse.  
"You don't have to agree with everything bad anybody says about..." he began mumbling to his nose, but had already lost his chance to be significant in this argue. But even that appeared to be enough to unintentionally cause a backsplash nothing had asked for.

"Do you mean I'm wrong?!" Saionji bursted out.

"Let's just stop it right there," Sonia interrupted. "We can discuss our past later if we need, when everyone'll be calm, not that exhausted and not when we're going completely out of topic with it."

It was a rare occasion when the princess would step into debate which seemingly went off the board, especially in a such manner, mercilessly washing them to the sober with an ice bucket like this, but that was how it had a breath-taking effect. Hinata, whose tongue was still powerlessly but persistently jittering in his mouth, grew numb and went down without a fight to this uneasy but unassailably forcible void embracing his mind. Hiyoko's chilling sight made few shots in Sonia's direction, but not a single one had reached the target, and she grew quiet frowning.

Koizumi was looking around in lost, to find the near wall the safest observing point at this moment in the end.

"I'm sure nobody meant to hurt anyone," she drawled out whispery.

"Who have even said that I'm suspecting anyone, or blaming anyone, I've just reminded the truth," Saionji muttered, crossing her arms over her chest and hiding the hands in her sleeves, but the raised shoulders showed out the defensiveness of her whole posture.

There was the soreness blowing behind her tightly closed lips and pouting cheecks, but Hinata couldn't say for sure if Hiyoko herself acted solely like a victim.

But to his relief – Hinata was just one more step away from regretting that he shoved his bare hands into this bee's nest, – more vibrant than any words being said outloud could've been, the class got into discussing the upcoming party.

"Even though we use a couple of rooms there, we mostly haven't checked out the whole building yet," Pekoyama reminded. They currently had enough of more important affairs than renovating this dreary house which didn't even seem to be of any use they might've needed right now, but they actually did customize one room there to be a laundry, and they also had to keep tools and materials somewhere while their cottages and the hotel weren't the best places for that. "We should verify that it's safe there."

"By all means, I bet it's a total disaster," Saionji said, quickly regaining her spirit to speak and make acid-tongued comments, not without some epicaricacy to spice it up with. "Don't envy anyone who's going to clean it up."

Trying not to get caught up with emotions this time, some of which he couldn't even explain to himself anyway, Hinata sighed in his thoughts and wondered if it was just a coincidence, not a pointing, or the needle of Saionji's compass, which she used every morning to choose her victim, really rotated to Komaeda with a perfect precise today.

"Yes, there is likely more work than there was in the virtual world," Nagito nodded. "But I'll do what I can."

"You're _not_ going to do it all alone..." Hinata spoke out slowly: he didn't question Komaeda's brainpower, especially now, when his mental health was showing an improvement, but knew that some word structures and ideas under them – for example, about how he deserved better than he was used to be treated – still would give him a hard time with getting into them.

"I've already promised that I won't hide a knife under the table or mess with the breaker," he smiled amusedly.

"That's not I'm talking about AT ALL."

"I can help with the cleaning," Koizumi volunteered. "If we want to actually fix it, we should prepare this party alltogether, not saddle just one or two people with it."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about," Hinata said gruffly, being slightly frustrated by this day – seemingly, not one of those when he would be listened and heared out from the first.

"Wait, wait, weren't we going to take a rest?" Mioda shaked up almost in a frightened manner. "I thought we'd decided to slack off so hard, but now it appears that we have to work out our butts for the whole day again? Ugh..."

Ibuki gave off a short groan and seized right then, but her pained expression was louder than any noise.

"Ah, come on, it's not a long way to go with all of us," Hinata tried to cheer her up. "And it's different this time, we're really doing this to rest in the end."

"That reminds me, I don't mind some help in the kitchen," Hanamura made an appearance into the talk, exclaiming this out perhaps a bit too loudly. "Of course, the main process is too sophisticated, but I'll be able to go more extensive with this banquet if I get support from lovely ladies who don't mind some handwork..." by accident or not, but he finished the phrase looking at Tsumiki with a straight, almost material invitation, like a letter or a door being courteously opened in front of someone who had probably never planned to enter it at all. Not so confidently, but the girl smiled back. 

"If I can be useful..."

"I would like to join too," Sonia wedged in. For a brief moment Hanamura flied up one heaven higher than he had been hoping – up to the point when Sonia's polite and well-wished but noticeably chilly smile lashed him, and he crashed his head into the hard ceiling.

"Th... Thank you," he exhaled weakly.

"Do any more girls want to help us?" Sonia asked. "Mioda-san, Saionji-san, Pekoayma-san, Owari-san?"

"I don't think it's a good idea to let the last one to the kitchen," Souda snorted. Fortunately, Akane looked fair interested and immersed into the main thread but not the details, and that was how she dismissed both that note and the girl's offer.

"No, I'm not so skilled in cooking," Peko turned out to be the only one who gave the direct answer soon enough.

Hiyoko suddenly appeared to be deeply concerned about something on her own mind, what probably had something to do with how for a good minute already, she had been having her eyes on Koizumi, intensely and somewhat sulkily.

"Mioda-san?" Sonia asked again, after coming to the conclusion that it would be a lot more assertive this way.

Ibuki moved restlessly at her place and looked at the girl sideways, almost avoiding the eye contact, as if it suddenly was a big deal.

"Oh, e-e-erm... To be honest, kinda not feeling like that..."

"Me and Tsumiki-san would be glad if you could join."

Hinata had an impression that those words made Mioda get even more nervous.

"Oh wait, I remembered that I'm a crappy cook too."

"I've already said that you won't have to do anything special," Hanamura reminded. Seemingly holding up, Mioda still got a slight wrinkle on her face, as if, with all of that naivity, the guy just had cut off the last rope which she had been clinging to while trying not to fall into an abyss.

"I'm not going to make you do anything with force," Togami finally made his word. "And if anybody really need time to recover – it's fine. But if an hour later I see someone slopping around and counting seagulls for no reason, they'll have to accept the consequences."

In the end, it was decided for sure that Komaeda, Koizumi and Pekoyama were up to cleaning; Nidai and Tanaka would make sure that there weren't any dangerous gaps in the floor and that the roof wasn't going to collapse on their heads in the middle of the party. Three girls – with odd hesitancy, but Mioda followed them – would help Hanamura in the kitchen. Hinata didn't remember if someone else got assigned like this or that was all, but what was more important, he had to focus on himself. He was thinking out his own role in all of those preparations when Togami came over him in the sweepingly emptying but still quite noisy restaurant.

"If you don't have any other business, I wanted to ask you to take a visit to the last island," without further ado, he spoke. "We haven't been there for long because it was too bothersome to travel without bridges, and looked through it too hastily when we needed equipment to go to the mainland, but now, I have to confess that the military base and the factory are concerning me. Those FF's members should've taken care of it, but who knows what they also could've overlooked. It's fairly possible that one of us mined Jabberwock when we first came there, for example, and doesn't remember."

Such nonsensical scenarios hadn't been bothering Hinatas even in his nightmares, but he had to admit that these days they have been living in the world where almost everything became possible. Especially when it came to something bad. Сomprehending what he had said, Hinata nodded.

"And, well, if you find something useful there, it will be handy as well," Byakuya added at last.

Nothing protested in Hinata's mind even when he realized crearly that his mission had in fact nothing to do with the upcoming party – nothing like that connection which made the others able to stand one more busy day. He was just as tired as they were, the only difference which existed was that his tiredness kept moving him forward: Hajime knew that it would pounce at him with its all might as soon as he would pause by to take a break.

Thinking about his outing, Hinata turned back unintentionally, absently running his eyes over the restaurant, without looking and without seeing – until they had been scorched by the carefully aimed call, being made by only the other sight, with no words, context, or any difined goal... and yet, there was everything of it. Both of them understood everything.

Finally, Komaeda faced away, as if nothing had just happened between two, and Hinata did the same.


	2. Part 2

After crossing the bridge to the fifth island, he started from the military base. To find something concerningly dangerous in the place which was defined to be a storage for various dangerous stuff – sounded like a bad joke. But Togami had notable humor issues, so Hinata should've accepted his assignment just like that and actually spent some time there. He didn't find anything like a huge bomb, which would've been capable of sending the whole island to a long flight, or any other trap being setted up by one of them, who in such case very possibly – considering the Kamukura story – could've been he himself.

The factory was his next destination. Deathlike, silent, it could've sent chills down someone else's back, but for Hinata, it seemed to be a lot less suspicious now, when its assembly lines were empty instead of carrying hundreds of robotic bears with that ugly laugh in their firmwares.

He left it soon, obtaining enough of proof-points already to compile a satisfying report for Togami. The warehouse standing right next to the factory wasn't that impressive comparing to it and felt like being any worthy of checking out even less. If Hinata memorized right, Byakuya hadn't even mentioned it for him to have a single reason to make it his another stop.

Not a single reason but that one that his legs refused to obey him for time enough to get close.

Encrusted hinges holding the armored door charged a good amount of efforts but let Hinata in. He didn't know what he was going to find and what he was expecting to encounter here. At the very least, he should've prepared, but his naive boldness kept telling him that just some four walls couldn't harm him anyhow. The walls had their own opinion on that.

The stone floor was perfectly dry and covered by few years old dust which immediately sticked to his white sneakers with no mercy. It gathered between countless boxes and on them; maybe it wasn't fabric but dust which the black curtain between him and the other side of the room was made of; Hajime did a right choice deciding not to try drawing it aside. Not a speck had anything to do with what that all meant to Hinata. Nothing Hinata remembered about this place had ever happened there. It looked exactly the same, it was almost the same, but had no idea about the nightmares which Hinata used to see it in.

The rays of sunlight were making their tough way through the dirty windows, a little bit higher than he could reach. It was enough not to bump into walls, but Hinata still felt a need to find the switch. The lamps hanging down from the ceiling were dim, but the fact that they had lightened up at all... No, not by a miracle but just by a power machine. The miracle was how this power machine was somehow still functioning here.

He spent too much time there for somebody who didn't know why he came here in the first place. Hinata was just watching how the abandoned warehouse was remaining just an abandoned warehouse, and trying to deal with the thought that none of his memories was capable of igniting fire or making blood appear on the floor. He was waiting long enough, as if he really wanted it to happen.

In his dreams, _he had never killed him_, as he told Komaeda, but he would've never confessed that it was worse. Sometimes he would just stand and watch like a motionless ghost who could do nothing and felt nothing until he would wake up being covered with his sweat and terrified to the bones with this delusion running in his veins, replacing his mind and his heartbeat. Sometimes he would argue and shout, trying to scream his way to Komaeda through the insane drivel he was cutting his ears and brain with, while the real knife in his hand was cutting his body. So many times he tried to take that knife from him, to hold back that cord.

It didn't matter whether he grabbed onto Komaeda's arm with all of his mights or not – it would keep moving in lockstep with the nauseous smile on the pale face. Clenching his teeth, he would search for more strength in his anger, in despair, in pain, to the point his soul would start bleeding. Often the guy wouldn't notice and see him, like none of Hinata's struggles had enough of worth even to give him the right to exist. But some nights, with his voice quivering in pain, through the tears mixing up with blood and running down his face, he would tell it Hajime himself: how the agony of death was much more lovely and desired company to him than some mediocrity who went under a scalpel just to tarnish and corrupt hope with himself. But the outcome would always be the same: in the end, everything would dissolve in that feeling, that one which turned any soil into ashes where nothing can live and grow – the feel of goneness. Once Hinata was waken up by his own sob: probably not the first but the last he let out before he strangled and pushed back deeply any more of them, but it wasn't as hard as waiting for the morning like that, huddling up under the blanket in the solid darkness. And it even had not that much to do with what they went through in the simulation. Or with Komaeda. This feeling of unbridgeable powerlessness was just horrible on its own. It knew that and kept making its visits to him again and again.

But that time, it most likely was busy somewhere and with somebody else. There was surely nothing like it in the frowsy air Hinata was inhaling into his lungs not for their good, with the memories about what had never happened here.

He turned off the light and left with a box.

***

Finding Togami turned out to be easier than Hinata had been expecting. When he returned to the hotel site, sooner than he could've thought about it he ran onto the man. Byakuya heared out his quick report and was content with it enough to let him go. But – was it a part of his plans or a flagrant omission – he didn't give Hajime any new orders.

Though before he could start counting the seagulls, he still had some things to settle. At the very least – to get rid of the box, the weight of which was almost nothing for him, but undoubtely, it would've looked much nicer somewhere on the floor. The floor of the old building came to mind as the most obvious option; besides, Hinata could check out if his help was needed there.

Being still few meters far from the porch, he noticed the black coat and its owner fussing nearly. Stopping aside, he had been watching until one of the hamsters whisked through the fencing under the house, sweeping along Gundham's arm to his shoulder, and then the guy turned to Hinata.

"Oh, um, how is it going?" he had finally come to his senses. Hajime had no idea why he didn't greet him earlier and felt somewhat dumb because of that. But admittedly, the utterly clear and real reason was now standing right in front of him full length, scanning Hinata with his heavy, dissecting sight being pointed at him over the magenta colored scarf.

"My fearless warriors succeed to discover the weak spot of this fortress. It's sufficiently far from our sabbat's location, hellhounds don't posses the power to open that portal by the midnight, but we should remain vigilant from now forth."

One more reason had just ruthlessly entered Hinata's ears. In any other situation, the silence which grew because of his desperate attempts to get through the words and forms, too ornate for his mind which hadn't seen a proper rest for two full months, would've been inappropriately long. But at least it helped him reach the plausibly sounding translation: the building requires the maintenance for sure, but today they don't have to bother their minds with it.

"The tremendous preceptor should've already sealed the other breach. The rest of mortals are making the preparations inside."

"Um, great," Hinata smiled, trying not to think how silly this smile might've looked if it actually reflected at least a half of emotions he had at that moment. "Thanks."

He just needed to pick up the pace and leave, but something unseeable and yet too sensible about Tanaka kept him tied down: there wasn't any way that Gundham had some kind of supernatural powers for real, Hinata would try to assure himself every time like that, trying to resist the guy being just too convincing.

Though it didn't matter if he had casted a paralysis spell on him or Hajime stayed much more willingly than he could admit, when he got the feeling that their conversation wasn't over, it was a hesitation long enough for Gundham to speak with a moderate, content smile, which Hinata couldn't see through the scarf but heared in his voice.

"You're the one who's guiding us into this night. Stories will be told about your valiancy."

Hinata froze again, but just for a second; mumbling one more thanks, trying to shake off the pink flush from his face, he shoot upstairs and slammed the door.

The corridor, which didn't even have a talking rabbit to clean it up, looked a lot less welcoming than Hajime remembered it. Cobwebs hanged down the ceiling here and there, the floor was creaking clamorously under his feet literally hurting his ears, some timbers which the walls were made of got so dark that it was worth concerning. But despite it, Hinata kept moving forward putting all the confidence into his steps, hoping that this way he would be faster than anxiety following him sneaky behind his back. He wanted to count on Nidai and Tanaka. And well, not like they gave him any reasons not to do that.

The place which he entered next didn't remind him a banquet room as well. Instead of bright, festive room he was greeted, without any eagerness, by the same crunching floor, the smashed out – even iron plates being put over them would've looked better – windows, and bare walls. The last problem though was already in the middle of fixing by Nidai, Souda and wallpaper. Too many questions came up in Hinata's head: at least where and how, after the cottage's renovations which didn't spar them even a single paint can, did they manage to find a bunch of wallpaper rolls looking so nice; and at last, was the one-night party even worth of such investments. On the other hand, if they really were so determined to do that, Hinata wouldn't mind.

He was slightly surprised to see Saionji sitting at the table with the scissors, surrounded by cuttings of colored paper. Komaeda got partnered with a mop and was diligently – and worth noting, actually pretty skilfully – doing his work in the other side of the hall. Among all of this pother, Hinata's mind pointed out Koizumi as the only one who was just a bit less busy than the others. With no doubts, he approached her.

"What's with the box?" with even less of doubts, the girl took the first move in this talk off his hands.

"I found fireworks at the warehouse. They look to be still of use, so I thought why not."

"Drop it near the door," Mahiru responded somewhat distantly, leaving his idea without any comments.

After finally getting rid of this load, Hinata hesitated whether he should've offered his help here: the small gear of the room was already working so consistently that he could barely imagine any vacant place in it to take. 

He almost began to retreat back to the door little by little when Koizumi turned to him again, almost crashing Hinata with the sight which had been obviously filled up with some kind of remembrance.

"Hinata, are you busy tho?"

"No, I actually wanted to ask if you need one more person here," he confessed.

The girl shook her head in haste and made several steps towards him – she needed just some more to reach the exit, and Hinata followed her unintentionally.

"I need you to help me with something, or at least to check out if it can be helped at all. But it's in my cottage."

Hinata shrugged his shoulders.

"Okay."

He registered how Koizumi glanced back quickly before quitting the hall, without warning anyone. Perhaps it had nothing to do with him or with the business between them. But the only firm impression Hinata got was that it also had not so much to do with today's party.

He was right.

"I found the camera which I believe I bought somewhen during our Hope's Peak's years," Koizumi explained on their way. "Souda succeed to repair it."

Now sitting at the table in Mahiru's cottage, Hinata was closely inspecting the device being entrusted to him. It was a fine digital camera, though a bit outdated already – if it mattered anything to begin with now, in the world where even this one worthed its weight in gold. Battered, the box was all scratched, but the objective looked like brand new and, for one second, it was in fact the real camera's lens. One more thing he planned to ask Souda about, after the wallpapers.

"And the memory card is undamaged, as he said, it's just empty. But that can't be, unless..."

Once she made a photo, she never deleted it, even a bad one (if she had ever got it, to start with), Koizumi herself said in past. It was something Koizumi Mahiru would've never done. And that's why the other, Remnant of Despair Koizumi would've done it for sure. Hinata didn't nurture any illusions about that: they all were themselves, and their every bad decision was made by themselves, of their own free will. Even he, whose another personality even needed its own name, had the full responsibility for letting it come into being. But it didn't help them not to regret the other day about something they did before. Something to regret about – they had so enough of it now.

The silence Koizumi finished this line with was full of bitterness and supressed wrath. They all knew this wrath too well. She sighed deeply and getting her head together again, she continued.

"I asked Souda about that. He said that in theory the files can be restored, but it's not his field. I couldn't think about anyone but you who I could've asked."

"You have a laptop, right?"

"Of course I have."

Pretty much expected "Of course I have" to hear the old days sounded almost defiantly: they could be in the heart of the worldwide depression, they could be not in the greatest situation for who they were, but if Koizumi needed a laptop – Koizumi would get her laptop.

Hinata connected the camera with the memory card inside to it and got to work. The chance of successfully restoring the data was slim: he knew neither how long ago it was wiped nor what else Koizumi had been doing with the card after that, and being visibly undamaged wasn't the same as being in perfect condition, to be fair. But just trying – like Komaeda would've said – wasn't going to kill anyone.

Koizumi stayed in the cottage. Difficult thing to forget about, but Hinata got his head into the business soon, and the girl was at least involved enough to not interrupt him in any way. After finishing almost everything he could've done there, Hinata checked out the time: no more than an hour had passed.

"I don't know if everything was actually recovered," he finally broke the silence, calling Koizumi, "but there are many photos."

The photographer rushed to the table and moved the laptop to her side a bit with such impatience that she could probably kick Hajime off the chair and fall onto it instead of him, but Hajime hoped that it wasn't going to end like that. Koizumi had a temper, but she wasn't cruel.

He scrolled the folder, looking through its content with her. There was actually a lot of stuff, but previews seemed to be quite similar, repeating one color scheme many times: brown, grey, green... glimpse of bright, colorful blue which could be only blue of clear sky.

"You don't mind if I open, do you?" Hinata asked, pointing the cursor on a random file.

"If I minded, I would already say it," Koizumi commented. "Just do it."

It felt... strange. Reverved course's classrooms were very different from what Hinata was seeing on the screen right now, but he remembered this interior well, though those memories most likely weren't his. The genuine nostalgic sensation should've been by Mahiru's side this time, and to be honest, Hinata wished he could feel the same. They both got catched off guard by the first photo Hajime clicked. 

Looked like Koizumi made it at her place, or any other place, but it was definitely 77th classes room: some empty desks, few students's backs and some of them sitting in half-turn, and nobody realized that they were on camera. Hinata clicked again in hesitation – the next shot was quite alike, but had a bit different angle, capturing the other side of the room.

He had some doubts about going on, but Koizumi kept silence – even though it was somewhat sore, – and he didn't want to ask her again as much as he didn't want to look like an idiot in case he was the only one sensing something being off here at this moment.

He scrolled a few more images: they all have their school life left on them, looking so ordinary and peaceful – Hinata would've never thought that any impassable leap could've split them inside those walls; watching just normal students having fun at the schoolyard and fooling around in their lessons, he kept searching and couldn't find anything to recognize as that mysterious pipe dream he had since the day he was accepted into Hope's Peak Academy. Expect for that weird photo – it couldn't be fake, why would Koizumi bother to fake it? – where a grizzly bear somehow ended up in their classroom, everything was just too normal.

A couple more, which were shot like first two, "suddenly", casually: amazingly, Hinata didn't see any stupid expressions or postures on them, and they still were so natural and lively; considering that every photo was a first try, it couldn't be done just with skill and experience, at least a little bit of clairvoyance was required, Hinata believed. Come to think of it, he was among all the Ultimate Photographer now as well – he even got curious about trying out how does it work someday. On the other pictures students were smiling to the camera, striking poses. It turned out just as good. The nice shot was made from the far when they were going back home after classes, crossing the green, spacious academy's yard.

Then they shifted to the classroom again. Unlike the rest, this photograph looked quite static, not so outstanding and special, it was giving off formailty so hard, just like any other group photo for a yearbook or anything, but even with that, all of fifteen people turned out great, and light of the looming evening fell down so nice and cozily.

Hinata didn't notice all of that right away. One thing just stole his attention much earlier, before he could've done this. There were almost all – except for Mitarai – of his classmates who he had by his side while growing roots at Jabberwock and fighting their way into the new life together. Yukizome Chisa was standing in the middle and smiling cheerfully, but who was actually in the center – it was her, sitting a little bit closer to the right at the desk. Upstraight, with her hands on the table, so unusually having nothing in them where she could've inserted a cartridge (no doubt, just for a single shot), but apart from that, there was only one person who this slightly spaced out face, which was looking straight at the camera confidently though, belonged to.

He knew this Nanami Chiaki. He knew another Nanami Chiaki. And he knew the difference between them. But it wasn't the same as understanding and accepting it. He couldn't forget the gamer girl who he hanged out with at the schoolyard after classes, and he couldn't pretend that the other one, who was with them at the one of shittiest moments of their lives, too short for such enormous amoung of shitty moments, had never existed. Even though in fact she actually had never existed.

They used not to talk about it since they had to cope that no matter which Nanami they knew and when – none of them was here anymore. When the last tears had been cried out, nobody ever mentioned her name. It looked like they had finally moved on. But something kept telling Hinata that it rather meant exactly opposite.

Or at least he felt such way.

"She was a class president, right?" Hinata asked quietly, hoping that like this his true emotions won't be loud as well.

"...Yeah," Koizumi answered briefly after a while, with the voice which suddenly had lost all of her character.

Neither of them had said a word since then. Hinata scrolled the folder to its end: of course, that wasn't the only photo with Nanami on it, there were enough of them to made him almost sigh with relief when the next file appeared to be the first one again. Still in silence, he closed the window and stared at the screen. When he just agreed to help Koizumi, he didn't have time to think out what he was supposed to do next – what he should've been doing now. And he could haven't predicted where it would lead him: to the chaos of memories being too heavy now in his head, and to the unsettling hollowness in his heart. As if he wanted to feel something named – grief, pain, or sorrow, – but whatever he could've felt about that, his heart was refusing to feel, because that was too much for it.

His hand slipped off the mouse dubiously; he really had nothing to do with it anymore, though he didn't know what to do without it, too; Koizumi's hand, slightly touching his palm, took its place before he realized it, and now filling the whole screen, that group photo was in his sight again, but it almost didn't bother Hinata anymore.

Hajime peeked at Mahiru over his shoulder trying to read what she was thinking about, and why she was looking at the picture again, so carefully, frowning like it was taking so much efforts of her to do, but more than anything else, the wrinkle between her eyebrows was carrying sadness.

"We had no idea what we were going to get through, huh?" she spoke.

"Yeah, that's for sure," Hinata responded; he hadn't been aware so far how much he needed some kind of talk, even such pointless one.

They had spent a while just looking at the photograph together – again, but Hinata sensed the odd change. It should've taken forever, and after this forever, gazing at Chiaki, he got to see something but his grief for her. She was smiling here – and nothing, not even death could change this. Then he finally started to see the others, too. They, also smiling, happy – or at least more happy than they would be then – couldn't have known indeed, and it was so unbearably sad and cruel. But still, they were them, the people who Hinata cared about so much now, and he would've lied to himself if he had refused to agree how happy he was to see them. And what was more important, no matter how long was the way between them and this picture, how many versions of themselves they had buried before ending up as who they were now...

They were still here.

"So... Is it all you needed?"

Awkwardly, seeming like sending away the mist which surrounded her head with too fierce emotions, Koizumi nodded.

"Yes, thanks, just... You don't have any other business, right? Could you please get back to the old building and help Hiyoko-chan and Komaeda finish everything there?" she forced out almost guiltily. "I have some stuff to do."

"Um, okay," Hinata shrugged and left the table. Even if he got curious enough and tried to find out what was on Koizumi's mind, he was already too absorbed into collecting his own heart's ease piece by piece.

When he reappeared in the hall, what was he wary about happened: straight off the bat, Saionji began to pick his brain about Mahiru, but when she finally believed that he didn't have any answers she needed (Hinata decided not to mention the photos), the girl lost any interest in him.

The sky they could see in the window was promising evening, but all of their preparations were fortunately closing to the end. Hajime was watching how Hanamura and some of the girls were setting the table – it was of a greater help than him doing this with his own brain forces to make him remember that he didn't have lunch.

Kuzuryuu entered the room dragging the box in front of him; before he could see its contents, Hinata heared pretty revealing twangle of bottles hitting each other.

He followed the guy with his eyes, and Fuyuhiko, who noticed it, exclaimed.

"What? We all are of the legal age."

Hinata didn't hold a smirk. It was funny how out of them two yakuza was the one who thought about such stuff, while Hinata was simply wondering: no, he did know, unlike the most of them, that they had some alcohol in their storage, but how do they have _that much_ of it?

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Kuzuryuu said when he asked him straightforwardly. "Take one more look at the box, look at how many of us are here – it's barely enough to wet our whistles. And it's for the best. If everyone there get drunk as shit, it may be troublesome."

"Come o-o-n," Owari appeared near them and put her hand on the gangster's shoulder without ceremony (still holding obviously heavy carriage in his arms, he didn't look so pleased with that). "We can now even drive a truck into the ocean," she giggled.

"Oh yeah, good luck with that," he waved aside with blatant sacrasm.

Soon they all were there. The moment when the party which made them live through the whole day should start, and Hinata discovered that... he didn't know what to do. It was weird and frustrating, like floating in open space, being unable to reach anything neither with your hands nor feet – he should've just relaxed and had some fun now, but he had no memory of how to do it. How it was like to not have any plan and something particular, undoubtely important and material he wanted to reach by following this plan... in inner freakout drawing closer to him, Hajime hurried to come up with just some plan: he still was hungry, first of all.

"And here is that person who attends any events just for food," Mioda called him out.

"Canft fufge fim," Owari munched already having her both cheeks bulging.

"I think it's obvious who's actually this person here," smiling back nervously, Hinata commented not to mock Akane, but because that note was just factually too unfair.

"The truth is so obvious that it's not even challenging," Ibuki shook her arms.

Apparently, many of them shared his situation. Mioda herself immediately got into freeing tooth picks of canapes' occupation, as if they were just sunflower seeds. Hanamura was professionally pouring the wineglasses he was given with the champagne.

Hinata, who was standing a bit closer to the bottles than Komaeda, took his glass.

"Alcohol shouldn't be taken with meds, is this worth it?" he asked.

"One sip is okay," Hinata responded calmly. "And considering your weight, one sip may be enough."

"So you want to get me drunk?"

"If you mind you can just say it, and not tease me," what should've be an attempt to resent, sounded too mildly and weakly, even to Hinata's ears. Komaeda hadn't said a word against, so Hajime filled his glass himself, with just a bit as he promised, and gave it back to Nagito.

"Maybe we should raise a toast?" Sonia suggested.

"Not about death," Saionji declared right away.

"Then I don't have any ideas," some of them should've said something like this, but Hinata didn't expect that it would be Kuzuryuu. The girl shoot very loud and tense silence into him, but it didn't affect yakuza in any way.

"Then maybe drink for the sake of today just _being better than the last time_?" Hajime offered cautiously.

"It's the same."

"Why the hell do you even need that, we are not on shitty family christmas party," Kuzuryuu yelled. "If nobody's going to write a fucking poem right now, just screw it, relax already."

And that was how it turned out.

When his empty stomach quitted being the only and the most insistive Hinata's talker, it felt a lot more like a party: conversations, laugh, some light music being played by the old stereo which Souda fished out of all that potentionally useful garbage, which they put aside for a better time, and breathed new life into it. Some of them were already seemingly buzzy and some didn't give him a chance to spot any difference, but all of them, including himself and his head which had lost some weight after the first glass, managed to remember that friendship exists not only to have somebody to fix the leaky roof together.

Even Mitarai, whose voice Hinata wasn't used to hear often, dropped guard, despite Ibuki clinging to and asking him about everything. Hanamura somehow were having fun and catering them as a waiter at the same time, but nobody had even tried to point it out, though Hinata had that on his mind initially: the guy looked too content just like this, and if it was exactly the way how he enjoyed the party best – then why not? Saionji, who seemed to be under the pressure of resentments hitting her one after another (even though some of them were expectable consequences of her own decisions) for the whole day, eased and brisked. Gundham's hamsters were savoring the salad being served specially for them on the separate plate.

They finally took time to discuss last two months without being pressed by a huge pile of work they still had to do and which would play a dirty trick on them if they didn't do it, just to laugh together about some small incidents and how they had been taking it all too serious so far. All slightly drunk, finally not thinking about what they would have to face tomorrow – it might've seemed like they were just fooling around and wasting precious time, but if there hadn't been anything before that, everything what had leaded them here and now, where they had done enough to deserve these few hours to do a couple – or a hundred – of follies.

Hinata had been chatting with Souda, but they both turned heads when the voice of Mioda, who still didn't want to leave Mitarai alone, reached them and became too loud to ignore it.

"It's just today I had to realize," she exclaimed and now it really seemed like she was addressing everyone who did as him and Kazuichi, "that we've been together for so many years already, haven't we, but we literally know nothing about each other. Mikan-chan couldn't guess my favorite color, and Ibuki couldn't even get mad because she couldn't remember Mikan-chan's birthday. Who do remember when my birthday is?"

Hinata looked down, since he realized right away that he wouldn't answer this question at least in next twenty seconds... but then felt almost being fooled when he recalled that he couldn't know that in the first place.

"We were born under the gaze of the same celestial guardian," Gundham uttered mysteriously. One casual question being thrown by Mioda, even though it was a very inconvenient question, turned into a real riddle.

"Does he mean... a zodiac sign?" Pekoyama assumed.

"So now we have to remember his birthday too," Kuzuryuu sniggered. "Hey Tanaka, could you just say which is your sign?"

"Sagittarius," fortunately, his answer finally didn't require a deep analysis.

"I thought that Mioda's birthday is somewhen in Octobet or November, since we celebrate it next after Sonia-san's," Souda guessed.

"If she's Sagittarius, it should be November."

In the meanwhile, Mioda herself, with her hands on her hips, were watching them and their hard-working attempts to solve this problem at least through collective actions almost as if she found that cute. That was how a mother would've heared out the lie being made up on the fly by a child who had been caught ditching school for the first time.

At some point they started to look around searching for somebody's help among the ones who hadn't been involved into the discussion yet.

"Hey, Koizumi, do you know Mioda's birthday?"

Koizumi glanced back and stared at the guy in gloomy bemusement, nearly in a sceptic way, but answered the questions without giving it a lot of time.

"November 27th."

Ibuki slammed the fist against her palm and raised the arm in victoriously.

"Wasn't expecting less from Mahiru-chan. But you wouldn't have guessed without her, would you?"

"Hey, you knew that not everyone here could just recall it without a calendar or phone notifications, why embarassing us on purpose?" Souda spoke grumblingly.

"Actually, it wasn't even the most difficult quiz possible," she said confidently. "We remember birthdays at least once a year because we have to. But have you ever thought about how some people may be friends for years, but can't guess each other's eye color without checking it out? Like, it's usually not something worth memorizing, but you see the other person every day, and you still don't remember, isn't that weird? So, hey, what about you?"

Mioda ran up to Souda; the guy nearly shrinked back for a plenty of steps, but she grabbed his jumpsuit and pulled him closer.

"What's the color of Hajime-chan's eyes?" she asked with a vulpine smile. "Well, I mean, it's hard to forget that they're heterochromous now, but which color they both originally were?"

And before the mechanic could glance behind and find it out, Ibuki caught his head with her both hands and kept his face looking at her.

"W-what kind of question is this?" Kazuichi flared, going too obviously defensive. "And what's even the point of it?"

"Mahiru-cha-an, what's the color of Hajime-chan's eyes?"

"Huh?.. Brown?.."

"Hm-m," still holding Souda's head in the same position for no apparent reason, Mioda stung into Hinata's face with her eyes intently examining it, while he was so close to the point where this discussion, the main subject of which he had been suddenly made, started giving him hefty discomfort. "Nope, I wouldn't say so."

He was already prepared – though not so happy about it – to Ibuki dedicatedly polling everyone here who was still stading far enough not to peek the right answer, but instead of waiting for its turn, Komaeda's voice stepped in next.

"They're hazel, more like green, but some lighting actually makes them look kind of light-brown."

Hinata turned the head and catched the movement with which Komaeda did the same surely not earlier than him. They all fell into an awkward silence.

"...That was phenomenal," Mioda finally breathed out. "I mean, I think it was an exception to the rule. But ten points to your house."

He had a feeling that it would've lasted forever if Hinata hadn't squinted away first, scratching his neck nervously. He hadn't read a single thought with what Komaeda could've been looking at him in response for a few more seconds after that; he just seemed like... he actually didn't find anything weird about what he had said.

Mioda was still struggling to present them some idea of her, without much of success.

"But in overall, I was right! Hey, hurry up and gather into a nice pile!"

"Why?" Togami asked imperviously.

"Because you all are no good. So we're gonna have an initiation ceremony, like some totally lame freshmen, right now."

"What?" Kuzuryuu asked a lot less composedly.

"Thank your lucky stars that Mioda Ibuki is a 'getting-to-know' games expert. Today nobody's gonna leave before memorizing at least eight birthdays of us."

"It has nothing to do with what initiation ceremony means."

"Hoo, why is it stuffy here, with an opened window," Ibuki spoke flaunty. Fuyuhiko clicked with his tongue in a slight irritation. Hinata had a hard time not mentioning that the window was still shattered, not opened, but at this rate, senseless arguments and bickering would've taken the whole night.

"So, what games do you know we can play?" the girl said.

"You've just said that you are an expert," Souda reminded.

"Sure thing, but I should test _you_ first."

"Truth or dare," Komaeda suggested.

"Are you preschoolers? We have this," Kuzuryuu grinned, raising his wineglass. " 'Never have I ever' is a must."

"What is it?" Peko asked.

"Oh, Peko-chan has never played before?" Ibuki exclaimed.

"And she _shouldn't_ have played it before," yakuza went dark immediately.

"Boo, how scary," Mioda shouted not sincerely at all and continued right away. "It's when one person says what they have never done in their life, and if others have done that then they drink. Come to think of it, we can combine it with 'Truth or dare': the one who ends up being the drunkest loses and have to choose truth or dare," she obviously had come up with that just now.

"But then _this_ is a cheating," Saionji yelled and pointed at Hinata who had taken the Komaeda's glass – already empty – and was filling it up with soda.

"Then I probably shouldn't play," Komaeda shrugged.

"Then we probably should choose a different game," Hinata corrected him in a calm but firm tone.

"We-ell, it's more about getting to know each other better then getting drunk as hell," Mioda reasoned. "It's even played without alcohol sometimes. We can just count how many times every of us has drunk."

"Fine, let's just try it out," Sonia agreed. "We have to take seats somehow, right?"

"Take your glasses and sit in circle, on the carpet!" Ibuki ordered sprightly.

"Cannot we just pull the chairs together?" Hinata doubted. "This carpet was probably washed last time before we were even born."

"At least we beated the dust from it," Souda shrugged.

"Oh come on, it won't bite off your butts," Mioda shouted. "Let's! Just gather! As if we have a campfire! It's almost the same!"

"A carpet and a campfire..." Hinata repeated slowly.

"Even two first letters are same!"

"And in your opinion, that's really enough?"

"I can't believe my ears you're discussing it," Togami sighed heavily.

But in the end, nobody else argued for serious. Sixteen people arranged rather a lopsided ellipse than a circle on the floor, but their geometry classes were left far enough in past not to be concerned about that.

Hinata got Souda on the left and Komaeda was on the right. He crossed his legs under himself, doing his best not to spill the champange out of his glass being filled up almost to the rim. A couple of bottles were standing in the center of the circle just in case their game went too intense.

"We have democracy here," Ibuki informed when everyone was ready, "so, who wants to be first?"

Without giving others too much time to think it out, Saionji spoke.

"I want."

The smirk, which made one of her cheecks raise up a bit, didn't augur well. The sole fact that she was Saionji didn't augur well. But Hinata, who had already dealt with whatever was going to happen, got even intrigued.

"Never have I ever watched adult videos."

"What?!" Souda nearly squealed.

"What a fucking great beginning," expressively, almost with some kind of philosophical dispassionateness, Kuzuryuu mouthed.

"Hurry up, hurry up, I'm making notes," visibly crowing about it, Hiyoko spurred them. "We're are stuck on this island with each other until the end of our days, it's a must to find out how many pervs we have there."

"You took a notepad for this, for serious?!" Kazuichi was still seething.

"We were going to count how many times everyone drank," explained Koizumi, who was sitting near her. A tense smile on her face, the awkward – and failed – move with which she tried to get the notepad away from Saionji – literally everything in her was screaming "Please excuse her". If Hinata had been a little bit more patient with Komaeda in the simulation, he could've related more than he'd ever asked.

They advanced into submission too soon. Souda gulped quickly, nearly dropping his glass, as if any speed but the speed of light could've actually helped him stay unnoticed (and on top of that, he almost chocked when Sonia raised her one); in opposite, Hinata sipped slowly, aiming not to meet anyone's eyes but watching the others: all of guys, except for Komaeda, Gundham and Mitarai, emptied their glasses in part. "Not like I really wanted to," Kuzuryuu grumbled; on the other hand, Hanamura looked almost proud of himself. Alongside with Sonia, more girls who took a drop were Owari – with solid indifference covering her face – and Tsumiki.

"Let's move one by one to the right," Mioda suggested when they were ready to go on. "Now it's Ibuki. Never have I ever read a single line of classic literature."

"Even in school?" Kuzuryuu snicked.

"I opened some book we had in the program once and nearly fell asleep," she nodded gleefully.

"But that means that you have read it in fact."

"I've said 'a single line', it was less than that."

Hinata thought how soon his liver would regret their decision to play something like that, when the burden of other decisions the normal student made in past (though it wasn't like he couldn't agree with Mioda) forced him to gulp again. The same had been done by everyone but Owari.

Then it was Kuzuryuu's turn.

"Never have I ever left Japan."

"But Jabberwock isn't Japan," Komaeda reminded.

"Okay, then never have I ever left Japan before we ended up here – I was thinking it's clear enough," going sligtly annoyed, but he corrected himself.

Using the break he got, Hinata saw that the drinking ones were Komaeda, Sonia, Saionji, Nidai, Hanamura, Koizumi and Togami.

"So you've never taken abroad tours?" he addressed Mioda. "I mean, with your band, or..."

"Nah, I left it right before we should've signed the contract for a Europe tour," swinging herself a bit at her place, Ibuki threw off – as if it had nothing to do with her at all. "I didn't have any full-blown solos before the crap started."

"And you've never moved anywhere too?" he asked Owari the same question. 

"Why moving when you have enough of food right where you are," Akane replied just as lightly. He got the point of her comparison, but still, the way how she worded out that... was too funny.

"It's a disappointing mindset," Nidai sighed and drank more.

"Hah?" the girl turned to him in confusion. "And well, it doesn't matter now anyway."

Next were Pekoyama, Hanamura and Souda, asking pretty normal, harmless questions, not mentioning Teruteru thanks to who they had to find out that none of them but Komaeda, Kuzuryuu, Pekoyama and Tsumiki had ever been tied up, and while the first one didn't have to remind them, and the following two told them not so pleasant story about being kidnapped by an enemy clan, the nurse, just because of the feels on her face alone, was asked not to explain anything.

Hinata's turn was drawing on, and he went into thinking it out in all seriousness: he could spice it with a bit of competition if he only would've come up with something only he hadn't experienced for sure (which was easier than it seemed since their high school experience was pretty different), but such trick of him most likely would've been noticed. Or he could relax and just say something what he was truly interested in about the rest, which this whole game basically was played for – but finding something he wanted to ask all of them appeared to be quite challenging. And also, whatever he would ask would be kind of revealing: he would have to agree that he had some reasons to ask it, that he was curious about some particular thing, but why – no doubts that others would wonder at least in their heads, keeping eyes on him in a judgemental way. At last, nothing could stop him from just blurting the first idea he got on his mind, just to continue the game – but saying something too stupid would put him into embarassment.

To sum up, the last option looked like the worst comparing to the other two – and that was exactly why Hinata chose it.

"Never have I ever ditched school," he told – and stared in confusion at how none of them made a move. "Are you joking?"

"Well, we weren't obligated to attend our classes," Souda explained.

"Before Yukizome-sensei became our teacher, barely a half of us had been doing that," Koizumi added with a bit of reproach. "But yes, it was legal, so nobody ditched in fact."

The rest were giving off the same confidence in what had been just said. Nothing else to add: even Hinata himself couldn't have imagined a failing which would make him that uncomfortable.

Just Mitarai alone was looking at the bottom of his wineglass through the burbly fluid, in falter.

"It works for you, but does how I skipped all the classes count as ditching?" he spoke.

Togami, sitting next to him, patted his shoulder softly, verifying mildly but very seriously.

"It does."

Mitarai took his sip obediently. A couple of quite but unabashedly merry laughs waved in their circle.

"Well, it seems to be my turn if you don't mind," Komaeda sounded. "Never have I ever been on class' group photos."

"Wait, for real?" Togami glared at him with a great discredit.

"I hadn't been in the academy for a year," Komaeda reminded coolly. "And it always somehow turned out that I wasn't lucky enough to be there at the right time, if my memory serves me."

Something didn't seem right – too resistant, too conscious contradiction pierced Hinata, making him freeze with his mouth being barely opened, though he still had to find the words which should've escaped it. It was buzzling somewhere so close, and yet – without even knowing what, Hajime couldn't grasp it, and he was risking to stay in this agonizing annoyance, as if he hadn't remembered the name of some familiar song which had already finished playing, but Koizumi came to the rescue – and just a single sound of her voice was enough for him to finally get it.

"No, it doesn't," the girl argued. "Give me a second."

She stood up and, with the numerous perplexed sights following her, left to the other end of the hall – by the way, she had already done this today, Hinata recalled, – to be back soon with a bag. Mahiru sat herself at her place, before she pulled a rather weighty envelope out of it.

Hajime knew what was in this envelope, and chills ran up his back. He didn't believe that Koizumi – that Koizumi who cared enough to ask him for help – would just put the folder with all of those photos in another, or maybe even deeper into her laptop's file storage, or wouldn't bother even to hide them away, pretending that it was nothing. He was prepared this time. Most likely he would look at them without that much soreness and a painful paralyzing cramp in his chest this time. He would just see his classmates one more time being a couple of years younger and one innocence happier; would see her, who he could now see only this way, but instead of letting this mourning and despair take over him, he could be grateful and glad that he could see her again at least like this.

He didn't knew what it would cost others to get there.

"Look at this one," without any hesitancy, even just basic carefullness, Koizumi pointed her finger at that one group photo. Komaeda wasn't simply there, he stood behind Nanami a little apart but still almost in the center, sticking out with the bright, light blur of his hair. Nagito bent down and was looking into the picture thoughtfully.

"Oh, I should've been on the end, it's too nice spot for someone like me, but it was just my luck, I guess."

_One day you'll quit saying such things... no, even thinking this way_, Hinata promised in his mind. Perhaps, he promised him, but very likely – rather himself.

"But you're right, I don't remember this at all," Komaeda exhaled quizzically.

"What the... what are even all these pictures?" Akane chocked, and Hinata bent the brows again in tense. And as if on cue, following Owari who gripped and stared at one of the photographs, the others began to go through them.

"I haven't even considered that any photos might've been left," without taking her eyes off, Sonia was gazing at the one where the girls were having lunch at the backyard.

"I would refuse to call myself a photographer anymore if I didn't find any," Koizumi answered with a dark seriousness. That impressed Hinata much stronger than he had been expecting since the moment Mahiru had just asked him a small favor: up to this point, he hadn't seen and hadn't tried to see how much deeper and longer the story of the broken camera and Koizumi's tenacity probably was.

"It was like... ten years ago," Pekoyama spoke quietly. The long silence which grew next was resonating with her: she said the only thing any of them could've said right now.

The one to break it was Tsumiki.

"C-can we really just change something what has already happened..? I m-mean, we can have f-fun and throw as many parties as we want, b-but Nanami-san..."

The girl stopped; she let slip the name which was, for sure, in thoughts of most of them in some way, and most of them found the strength to keep their mouths shut...

But again, was that actually the strength?

Kuzuryuu gave off a short, strained growl. Mioda was still fingering their group photo – unable to quit hold of it, no matter how sadder her sight was becoming. Komaeda, whose receiver seemed to loose their wave completely, wasn't looking at anything and anyone at all, being deeply in his own thoughts.

After a while, but someone finally spoke again.

"But Nanami-san won't be here?" Sonia finished instead of Mikan.

She was almost frowning. Hinata could only imagine how tough and painful was to get out those words which Tsumiki didn't dare to wash them off with. And being said in Sonia's way, they were giving off... some kind of discountenance. Or rather disappointment. As if she knew that everybody was thinking the same, she herself, maybe just for a glimpse, but had thought the same – and her most essential belief was reluctating it.

"You're right, it will never be the same now," she resumed, like with the words she was forcing her way through what she wanted to express by them. "And it doesn't matter how hard we try, but this party will never be like it could've been that time – we lost that chance, and nobody's going to give us a spare one. But only because we can't make it the same, it's possible to make it better. And... it's not even about the party."

Sonia smiled, forced out the smile for them – too wide, revealing her trembling lips, and admitting the defeat, she rubbed her eyes.

He heared how somebody sobbed quietly in response, but didn't try to found out who that was. Hinata, who'd had not so much to say before, now had lost the power of speech completely – because of how boldly, even ruthlessly that had been said, but that was exactly what they should've finally given their voices about to be able to move forward.

"She... I think she would've said something like that," Koizumi pushed out, taking her own attempt to smile.

"At least would've tried to say," Mioda chuckled awkwardly. A small laugh suddenly escaped Hinata as well: no matter how historically important this moment were, they couldn't just pretend that Nanami actually was that good speaker.

They couldn't chirk up right away, couldn't make believe that it was so easy and didn't even hurt, but all of them smiled as heartedly as this pain allowed them. Maybe even a little wider – a little more efforts of everyone, and they would probably manage to put together the final, missing smile.

And with it, they will be able to make the new garden bloom on the ashes.

"Okay, before this freaking fun party turns into the memorial completely," Saionji began speaking, "let's just make a new group photo. Who knows who we're going to loose by tomorrow after these drinking games."

"And she was the one who kept ranting about death jokes?" Souda recalled.

"Shut up."

"I thought about it too," Koizumi perked up, already retrieving a folded tripod and a small remote controller out of the bag she brang. "One more minute."

"And while she's preparing, we all, including Nagito-chan, should drink," Ibuki, who cheered up too, reminded.

"But I..." Mitarai tried to object. Togami gave him a long look; the guy shrugged with his shoulders tremulously and sipped along with the others.

When the setup was ready, Koizumi made them ruin the circle and placed everyone with the photograpther's firmness and competence before taking the remote and joining them.

Hinata was used to how he actually turned out not so well on such photos: every time, he would have to force the unnatural, constrained smile onto his face, and even with that it would end up at some weird angle which showed out all of his flaws, and would just look foolishly... probably for once in his life, he didn't care. They were doing it not to be on a cover of some magazine, or to pin a masterpiece of photographic art to the restaurant's wall – they were making memories, and the sole fact of their existance was far more important than how they looked in them.

It was so ironic that when he saw the result on the camera's screen – Hinata realized that he looked well.

"We can crop Hinata-chan and Ryouta-chan out of this pic and photoshop them to the old one," Mioda suggested enthusiastically.

"Hm-m-m, if you're talking about making a photo with all of us – it's better to make Nanami-san from the old picture be on the new one," Komaeda opposed.

"Yeah, sounds like... less work," Koizumi chuckled.

"Not only for this reason," Nagito added. "Just... It's true we can't do anything to the past. So what's actually important now – it's our present, and how it affects the future."

There was a silence for a while – but good silence, in which the genuine inner approval of everyone was tuning in unison.

Suddenly Gundham raised his hand high; the champagne at the bottom plashed in flutter.

"For the future!" he announced.

"For the future," responding discordantly, they were ringing with their glasses.

It didn't seem like anyone was going to remember the game they hadn't finished, or the score they should've been counting during it; the party was keeping up in soft pace.

Though Hinata had been already feeling like getting close to its end. He didn't drink that much, and wasn't that old yet, but something similar to a tranquil contentment filled him up. Just like this, it was already how it was supposed to be, and he was happy enough with that.

He stood aside watching the others finishing their drinks; and Hajime hadn't been noticing how the guy was standing right behind him until Komaeda spoke.

"The idea about the party was wonderful. To face the nightmares of the past and 'replay' them so bad memories turn good... couldn't have been better."

Finally, Hinata breathed out in his head: finally we've got to a straight conversation about what both knew since the beginning.

"Sounds like you have nothing to do with it at all," he chuckled, turning to Komaeda. "Whem I'm not even sure if it was actually _my_ idea."

"Oh well, you might've got some thoughts after our talk," a light, almost playful smile blinked on his lips, "but I really didn't expect it to advance like this. You know, my whole life contains of lowered expectations. So how you usually exceed them astonish me so much that one day my heart won't endure it."

"You really needed less than a glass to get drunk?"

"I don't feel drunk," Komaeda argued musingly.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," Hinata smirked, noting his cheecks being slightly flushed by pink. He was doing his best not to think about which shade of red his own face might've just changed into as well, while the alcohol was the last responsible thing.

Hinata often tried to remember in details their interactions in the virtual world: had Komaeda told him as much monstrously straightforward embarassing stuff which nobody would ever tell another person even if they meant it, but Komaeda seemed to have no idea about it? Now Hinata knew that his sickness affected the guy's brain a lot, but watching how he was recovering, Hinata kept discovering unseen sides of him... but he had to accept that some things in the end were just actually Komaeda.

"To be honest, I was thinking about setting up a blackout again, just for a laugh, you know," Nagito confessed. "But I guess it's a bit too much for a joke."

"Jeez, you're terrible," Hinata squeezed out barely holding a traitorous laugh which ruined all his seriousness. "But... at least you realized it."

Hinata got attached to this guy; and even though that how he managed to win over this misunderstanding, which he used to consider as intractable before, between them, how he was able to overlook all personal grudges and just give a hand somebody who really needed it, wasn't something he had ever regretted – sometimes this discovery that he could change his mind about someone so easily was spooking him. Or... maybe he just had to admit to himself that he had never wanted to hate Komaeda?

"Since it's the night of meeting our devils..." lowering his voice, Nagito suddenly said. "I'd like to get some fresh air outside."

Hinata stared at him in confusion first, but before he asked – he had got it.

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"It would be nice."

Nobody noticed them leaving.


	3. Part 3

The night air had a smell of salty breeze, chill and nothing else – it appeared to be one of the most hard-hitting discoveries Hinata had made since they found themselves on the real Jabberwock. For the first time he had faced such striking awakening how sensibly a human's presence would usually fill up the world around: how narrow side streets and wide avenues would be filled up with countless scents of different food, how cars passing by would blow clouds of dust and leave a fume of gazoline, too familiar to notice it; and the strong, recognizable smell of medications seizing his nose when he was laying on the operating table. But what was a lot less clear – it was like anything would left its subtle but notable fragrance behind, anything a human would do to record their existance: any doing would echo in eternity, any word would get absorbed by earth and water, a breathing would be carried by wind to miles far away, even a thought being once born and vanished would left an imprint of its presence.

There was no doubt that for a long while already, Jabberwock had been owned by nothing but nature itself. It was situated far enough from the mainland which had been suffering the most of past years' calamities; sometimes wind would change, bringing dark-grey clouds – more like plumes of smoke, – reminding them that their tropical shelter was just an illusion of heaven amid the broken world which still hadn't healed its wounds. But othen than that, the island was wild and uninhabited, not imbued with their voices yet.

They had to grab a flashlight on their way so they wouldn't get lost in darkness or fall off the bridge right into the ocean. Even through the clear night sky being spangled by myriads of stars – the one which they wouldn't have seen in any city, too – was lighting at least a couple of inches in front of Hinata's nose, it was safer this way.

On the last island – which nobody but them would've ever called "the last" – Hajime felt a slight agitation. Just like with the photographs which Koizumi brang to the party, he was ready – what he was going to see for the second time would just stir the shade of his past emotions, past feelings, past thoughts in him, but they had been already taken care of, and they have already done everything they could do to him. More likely he was worried about Komaeda. Though Komaeda didn't seem to be any anxious. Memories couldn't kill, but Hinata knew that besides them the guy had enough of things inside his head which weren't so easy to see with your eyes. But which had already killed him once.

The door screaked, but opened effortlessly this time. Flashing the walls, Hinata found the switch and turned on the light there.

Komaeda stopped in the middle of the warehouse, and Hinata could only try to think himself what he had on his mind and what was happening with his heart. Nagito kept turning his head while looking around, and seemed distant, indifferent. Maybe he wasn't thinking clearly because of alcohol, but to be honest, the guy's voice really didn't sound like he was drunk.

"It's almost like nothing happened here."

It gave Hinata goosebumps how he said it, as if he had read the thoughts being left here by him this morning in the dust floating.

"But nothing happened here _for real,_" he reminded.

Komaeda nodded.

"This is so degrading, you know. When even your death meant nothing so much that it just never happened in the end."

"Do you want to say you'd prefer to stay dead just so it'll 'mean' something?"

"I don't know."

Hinata had already came to terms with how he wasn't able to make him change his mind here and now, no matter how hard he wanted that. He couldn't afford to forget or be caught by the delusion of their unshadowed everyday life: he knew how fierce and draining was Komaeda's inner war against himself, and how sincere was his will to be its winner at least once, so he couldn't pressure him with that even more. And after all, that "I don't know" was a lot better than the "yes" he could've said.

Just how Hinata this morning, he was walking between the shelves, observing them carefully, but without any interest in his eyes, behind which, deeply, this place looked so differently. Hinata used to think about these unspoken words between them frequently: he felt like he would never find himself at peace until he asked him those tough questions which he probably didn't wanted to be answered that much to be honest... but something kept telling him that he should. And he needed some kind of special, unique moment, which could've never occured, but here, now – if this wasn't it, then Hinata would really never get anything like that anymore.

"Did you regret it?" he asked cautiously. "I mean, did you regret it, when it was too late to pull back?"

Komaeda froze with his back being turned to him. What was Hinata himself regretting – how he wasn't fortunate to see his face at that moment. Komaeda lied badly, but he had that one destructive habit, somehow living along with his immoderate straightforwardness, to be silent about what was important the most.

But few seconds later, Hinata realized that he hadn't any reasons to doubt him this time.

"Maybe I regretted not being someone who didn't have to do it," he spoke almost whispering. "It's just how it works, Hinata-kun, not a living thing, no matter how desperate it gets, is supposed not to be afraid of dying. A survival instinct makes you breaking out of a loop, trying to swim back to surface, fighting for your life. It makes you believe that you want to pall back, even if you know perfectly that you have nowhere to return."

"So... you were afraid?"

It was the most cretinous question which one could've possibly asked to that, and Hinata was aware of it... but for some reason, he really wanted to hear the response from Komaeda outloud. Honest, clear, just how it was.

"Yes."

Like the last piece of puzzle coming into its place; they were having not so inspiring talk there, but in some sense, Hajime got settled: Komaeda, for real, was just a human like him, and to keep fighting for his life and soul, Hinata needed nothing more.

"Hinata-kun, please, don't think that I regret coming here," Nagito finally turned his face to him. "And thank you for... just thanks," he finished as if he realized that whatever he had being going to say first, it wasn't enough. "For everything."

"It's fine," Hinata smiled subtly in response.

"And if you don't mind... I'd like to have fifteen minutes to myself here."

"Sure, no problem," Hajime agreed hurriedly. "I'll wait outside."

Closing the door behind him, Hinata leaned his back against it and stared up. The sky was truly startlingly clear today: at moments like this, it reminded a shimmering canvas being extended above your head, it seemed endlessly close and endlessly far at the same time. Hinata wasn't the best person to define as romantic. In past he would rarely stop by in the middle of his way to school to admire a beautiful view, and wouldn't come to a window at evening, taking a break from his homework, just to wave off a sunset. And even here, not like he had time for that currently. But thinking about how someday he will be able to sit on a coast and watch sizzling waves sliding over sand, relishing every second just because it will never repeat, he felt unusual satisfaction. At the very least, it looked appealing in his mind, but the time only will show was he already old enough to quit living in rush.

For the first time in foreverness he was feeling not just exhausted, but exhausted in a good way. They were living the best possible version of this day to be lived, and Hinata couldn't come up with what else he might've needed to be happy. Maybe, this light, warm content flowing in his whole body was happiness itself. Or maybe it was just his first, sketchy attempt to find out how true happiness was supposed to be felt, but this attempt looked quite promising.

Hinata didn't think out how he was going to count those fifteen minutes Komaeda asked without any clock: he was simply expecting him to come out himself when he was ready, and so they would get back to the hotel together. But time was passing; Hajime never considered his sense of its his strong point, but in the end he started feeling that they lasted longer than they were supposed to. He let them, but only up to the point when his patience ran out. He didn't mind giving Komaeda as much alone time as he needed, but this uncertain, quiet waiting was tiring. So Hinata finally decided that nothing would happen if he just glanced inside to check.

When he opened the door again, he petrified in confusion. The light was still on, and nothing had changed in the warehouse he left last time but one: Komaeda was nowhere to see.

All racks were easy to see through, and the boxes laying on top of each other were making towers not high enough for someone like Nagito to hide well behind them – there wasn't any chance that he had just lost sight of him for a second.

Hinata fumbled, but his mind was quick to demand a logical explanation of that all. Even if old, wrecked warehouse had some hidden passage along with the door – what for would Nagito trick him? He might be unpredictable, might act impulsively because of the sickness which affected his brain a lot, but even with it, his actions always had some sense. Hinata, who felt like he finally began to got Komaeda, couldn't think about any, even completely crooked sense in running away like this.

So, regardless of what Hinata was seeing with his eyes right now, the should've still been somewhere here; somewhere Hinata forgot about.

The black curtain at the other end of the room was hanging down too still; if the common sense hadn't been assuring him opposite, Hinata would've believed that there was nothing behind it, and it was making unpleasing, somewhat creepy presentiment growing in him. Grudgingly, his legs began moving forward. He almost like feared to open a door behind which he could've discovered a body and then heard the announcement the sole sound of what would've made him all get iced up, and as soon as Hinata realized it, he tried to push this delusion away, to get rid of it. But Hajime was still feeling uneasy.

He pulled the curtain, and he blinked unintentionally: the lamps were beaming brighter there – like in some interrogation room. Light was falling down on him and right in front of him; Hinata made just one careful step forward before he stumbled and got upright immediately.

He was too attentive and strung in anxiety enlacing him to mistake something on the jump. He winced, but didn't let those horrid comparisons blind him: there wasn't a single drop of blood around, nothing like a long spear, or even a knife. Water wasn't sloping under his feet, and the air didn't smell like smoke at all.

But even so, for a second he couldn't get into believing what he was seeing.

Komaeda was down on the floor, with his one hand being free. Not a surprise that at a warehouse, in such trash pile – even without his talent – he was lucky to find the most common equipment such as ropes and tape. This guy was indeed scarily genious: he managed to replicate a half of his own perfectly planned and setted up suicide within just some minutes, while Hinata had been standing behing the door, totally improvising.

But this time, Hinata had to establish just one thing about it: the motive.

They were looking at each other in dead silence for minutes, or rather for eternity. Komaeda didn't even flinch, and Hinata could read nothing on his face. Hinata should've bursted up. He should've got mad, cried out for an explanation, because this view which showed up to him without any warning... it wasn't normal. It was laying nearly above of what he could've taken, even from Komaeda. But for that, he should've felt anger, annoyance, fair rant flaring up in him. He hadn't found anything inside but his own desire to understand – and to solve this case without hints.

Hinata had been forced to investigate a bunch of murders, and none of them, if not only their lives being at stake, was worth of it. He decided to himself that he would never have any business with detective novels, would never even open a crossword magazine ever again. But the last riddle, still waiting for him, had the grey-blue eyes.

After waking up, they saw real Jabberwock – the book with empty pages which didn't even have their names on them, but in evening's twiligt, bloody stains were still glimmering on the walls. There was neither first nor second, they had just one Jabberwock – that one where they had the party ending with the tragedy.

This time, it will be different.

This time, _everything_ will be different.

Hinata got down on the floor near Komaeda. He carefully peeled the tape off his mouth, untied his hands and legs. Nagito didn't resist and wasn't literally reacting to him by anything but his wordless, observant sight, until Hinata tried to clumber him on his back.

"H-Hinata-kun, what are you doing?.."

"Your legs were quite injured," Hajime noted, confidently, as if it wasn't just his pretty daring guess of what Komaeda wanted from him – Komaeda, who had memories to rewrite, as well. "You should've struggled walking by yourself."

Glancing back over his shoulder, Hinata looked into wide eyes; but while he was raising up, holding Komaeda's thighs tigtly, the body leaning on his spine seemingly relaxed. Slender arms enwrapped around his shoulders.

When they got outside, Hajime remembered that he forgot the flashlight inside, but it was too late to worry about that kind of thing. Making bold to trust the starlight, he headed home.

Sedate breathing soon started tickling his neck. Komaeda kept being silent, and Hinata didn't dare to say anything, not being sure how solid he was supposed to be about the narrow solemnity of this moment. Was Komaeda really drunk or not, Hajime hadn't a single doubt that what happened at the warehouse was done by him, Komaeda, perfectly consciously. _Sane or not, you're going to destroy a lot more of my nerve cells further,_ Hinata sighed to himself.

Suddenly the sky above them flamed out with colorful sparkles. Hinata stopped. The other's chin layed down softly on his shoulder from behind.

"You missed it because of me," with quiet, almost sleepy voice, Komaeda stated.

"It doesn't look like I missed anything."

Watching, Hinata was waiting as long as he could hold – not so heavy but still not weightless – Komaeda. But the box which he brang to the party back then appeared to have no bottom. Red, gold, emerald flowers, following the far thunderpeal reaching them two, kept blossoming above, lighting up their way.

The door which was their next stop belonged to Hinata's cottage.

"You are not going to let me go to my place?" Komaeda asked, as straight as always.

"Well, most likely by this point I would've been thinking that somebody had tried to kill you," abandoning the rest of his doubts and concerns about being sane himself, Hinata insisted. "Having no idea who. I would haven't let you be by yourself."

"But at least I can go inside by myself."

Wordlessly agreeing that it would be easier to open the door this way, Hinata let Komaeda find the ground with his feet.

Shutting the door behind them both, Hinata headed to the bathroom first. A shot of adrenaline Komaeda fired him up with a bit was slowly running out, and fatigue began pressing him down with renewed vigour. There is no way he won't look awful next morning, but while he still was in condition to keep himself upstraight, Hinata wanted at least to try reducing the loss.

When he got back to the room after the quick shower, Komaeda was laying at the edge of his bed curled up, still in his clothes – just like he came inside, not counting the coat which he, by some miracle, managed to take off and hang on the chair.

Hinata had to finish it for him. Carefully, doing his best not to disturb Nagito, he pulled his pants off him. White skin was almost glowing in the dim night light falling through the window; Hinata already knew the story behind them, but two long scars were still throwing him into some other reminiscences.

"I hope, that we'll both stop seeing _those_ dreams from now on," Hajime thought, covering Komaeda with a thin blanket.

He moved to his side of the bed, feeling how he was melting on it like a jelly. He didn't even have any strength left to get a disappointing thought about how tomorrow everything was going to start over again: noise, bugs, "those idiots arguing" and "sawing shitty boards".

It seemed like nobody got it. Pretty close and loud this time, but still not making Hinata flinch with a single muscle, another firework rumbled.

"Good night," sounded quietly behind him.

He mumbled something in response, slowly drawing away from the bright flashes winking through his shut eyelids, into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to write something short, short but warm and nice: something like a "thank you" to my favorite DR part and favorite DR cast, and kind of my atonement for writing CTS ("Capturing the sunlight"), which I still love a lot, but... you know what I mean if you read it, ahaha.  
I feel really guilty that it took me so much time to finish, I was even ready to give up at some point and confess myself that it grew into something much more complicated than I expected and than I can handle, but... It's here, better than it was supposed to be, I think. 
> 
> I'll never stop repeating how much I love these children and how proud I'm with them. Even as an angst writer, I declare that they deserve their happy ending which nobody will take away from them. 
> 
> P.S. @gaysdr2noises is my twitter, feel free to drop in.


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